


Peace

by ndnickerson



Series: Red Label [12]
Category: Nancy Drew - Keene
Genre: Christmasfic, F/M, Pregnancy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 05:33:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nancy gives Ned a Christmas present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The lights go out at noon, and somehow none of us are surprised. As our computer screens flicker out simultaneously, we glance around at each other, the same restrained glee on our faces. But the interstate will be clogged with traffic, and even if we could manage to make it to the stores for a few hours' more shopping, they would be closed, the fairy lights in the displays dark.

I'm halfway back to our house when my cell phone rings. "Where are you?"

"Stuck on the expressway," I groan, as another chorus of horns ring out. "You?"

"If I don't get out of here soon, I'll be directing traffic downtown."

"Please talk your way out of that," I beg, twisting the wheel to maneuver into a faster lane, the wheels skidding slightly against the freezing road. "I want you home at a decent hour."

"Oh?"

"To go over the paperwork for the house," I reply, sensing his playful disappointment. "You know, what we've been doing the last three weeks?"

"I trust your dad," my husband protests, which is true enough. Dad has been keeping a close eye on the paperwork, making sure we get a good deal for the house. "Anything you want me to pick up on the way home?"

"Just yourself."

Mollie is standing at the door when I finally make it inside, overwhelmed with joy, and she won't let me by, so I sit there on the hardwood floor, still shivering, and stroke her until she's licked half my makeup off and is standing on my thighs, her tail just a blur of motion in the air. "Who's my good girl," I coo to her, stroking her, rubbing her soft ears. "'Cause you're mine, aren't you, no matter what Ned says."

She barks happily in response, her eyes bright, and I hug her before checking her food and water. Then I duck into the freezer quickly, finding a bag of steak, and Mollie follows me to the spare bedroom to find the camping stove I'm sure is in here somewhere.

The light is still a dull glow through the drapes when Ned ducks into the house, stamping the snow from his feet. He pulls me in for a kiss, and I know the exact second he hears the steaks sizzling, because his lips turn up in a smile against mine.

"You know what I like."

"You know what _I_ like," I counter, running my fingertips over the gleaming brass badge. He's still in uniform, which means if I'm not careful, I'll forget about the steaks entirely and waste all of the cooking fuel, burning them into oblivion. "Go change, or you'll be wearing me in a minute."

"And that was supposed to be a threat?"

"Not very effective, huh."

He backs me into the counter and kisses me again, all my weight on one bent elbow, my fingers twisting in his collar. His cheeks are still cold, even though the house is still warm enough to keep me from shivering.

"They had you directing traffic, didn't they."

"Until they found someone who needed overtime more than me." His stubble brushes my throat when he kisses my neck, and I chuckle as I push him back.

"Ned..."

"I know, I know," he groans, sweeping his hat up off the table. "When's dinner gonna be ready?"

"Whenever you say it is."

He grins at me from around the corner before Mollie follows him into the bedroom, and I look at my purse.

I've missed my period. I missed it two weeks ago, but I kept waiting for it, because Ned and I only agreed that I'd go off the pill two months ago, and it's almost impossible that I'd be pregnant already. But I have a test in my purse.

We have dinner by candlelight and I don't mention it although it's on my lips twenty times. But we haven't gone through anything like this before, and I don't want to tell him that I'm pregnant when I'm not even sure about it yet. I've skipped periods before.

"George called me this morning," I mention, while Ned saws off another bite of steak.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, Bess is supposed to be getting in tonight, I think. If the airport has any power, that is."

"Oh, they're fine," Ned shrugs. "I think if we lived closer to town, we'd already have power back."

"Think maybe we could take her out to dinner?"

"Sounds like a great idea."

"Maybe Friday night?"

"Sure."

The tree is in the corner, even though it seems strangely dark and sad with the lights off, and we clear the table together. He wraps his arms around my waist as I fill the sink with soapy water, and as he kisses the back of my neck I shiver against him. "So, no movies, no video games... how," he kisses the hollow just behind my ear, "are we going," he kisses the other, "to keep ourselves busy tonight?"

I turn in his arms. "Let's play cards."

He groans against the base of my neck. "No, no," he protests, and I laugh at him. "No, baby. I'll even go put the uniform back on..."

"No you won't," I tell him softly. "When's the last time you played cards?"

"Last time I saw Mike."

"With me."

"Can't even remember."

"Exactly. And we have the rest of the night, once it starts getting cold, for you to put your uniform on, and..."

"And..."

By now I'm blushing, even though the kitchen is the warmest place in the house from the camping stove, and I know he's enjoying it. Mostly because his hips are tight against mine.

"And find a way to entertain ourselves."

He gives me a good natured sigh and backs off. "You'll owe me, Drew."

"Depends on what we use for our betting."

His eyes light at that. "What did you have in mind?"

We don't bet with clothes (his first choice) or shots (his second choice), because it takes a while for me to remember how to play against him instead of with him, and I'm not drinking until I see the results of the pregnancy test. Even so, he finds a bottle of wine and has a glass or two while we play with the change from the jar in our bedroom.

"You're going down."

"What, you want to bet for sex acts too?"

It's his turn to gape at me. "You didn't mean that."

I laugh. "No, I didn't," I admit, and his face falls a little. "Would it make things more interesting for you?"

"Well, it's too cold to strip," he muses aloud. "I don't know. This could be fun, especially if the power isn't back on by the morning..."

"You know it will be."

He sighs. "I know, I know..."

I deal out the cards, and he picks them up, fanning through them, and I can see that same spark in his eye.

"Ante up, girl."

He builds a fire after, and the tree almost looks right in the flickering light. Mollie is fascinated, Mollie's always fascinated by it, and then she jumps up on the couch and nestles in next to me, pressing up against my side, and I'm surrounded. Ned's on my other side, his arm wrapped around my shoulders. I can tell he wants to drink some more, but he's puzzled by my declining to join in. When he ducks in and presses his mouth against the base of my throat, making me laugh, he leaves the taste of wine on my skin.

"I love you."

"I love you too," I murmur, with my head against his shoulder, and we did this all the time before, when his parents were still alive and we were still years away from our engagement. Sitting on the couch in my father's house, laughing under my breath as Ned snuck into the kitchen for another helping of one of Hannah's fantastic desserts.

He turns his head and I turn mine and we meet in a long, slow kiss, my palm cupping his cheek when he pulls back, and although he's always gorgeous, there's something about the shade of his eyes in firelight that takes my breath away.

"Tired?"

"Not really," I reply, and neither of us can stop the slow smile from spreading across our mouths.

The house is so incredibly quiet and still when we go to bed. We waited until the last ember had faded from red to ashen, and he already has me half-undressed by the time we sneak out of the living room, leaving poor Mollie asleep on the couch, our faces still flushed from the heat. The candles on the bedside table are almost always cold, but tonight they hold steady flames, casting deep flickering shadows on the walls, the pale outline of our silhouettes. Our bedroom is cool, my toes are numb with it, but he's warm, perfectly slow with wine, and when I mount him in one smooth movement, his eyelashes flutter down while his lips curve up.

I trace my palm over the curve of my stomach, wondering if it's already true, and the thought makes me shiver.

Ned loops his arms around my waist. "Cold?"

I smile a little bit, but I nod, and while he's still inside me he sits up, and when he shifts I gasp. He pulls me in to him and drapes the blankets around our waists, my hips still pushing against his, and I dip my head in, my face against his shoulder, teeth scraping the skin. I love this feeling, I love the feel of him, the pressure and the desperation, when he's all I can feel, when there's nothing other than the two of us, nothing at all. His chest is warm against mine and he runs his fingers through my hair, shifting his hips up against mine when I slow.

I turn my face to press my mouth against his ear, smiling when I feel him shiver in return. "I love you," I whisper, just before I plant my knees on the mattress and begin to rock against him, and we tremble when we come, gasping into each other's skin. I can't make myself move, after, and he kisses my cheek, my face, while we just hold each other and his every movement brings another scream to my lips. The house is so quiet that I can hear every bedspring's twist when we shift, and I can almost hear Mollie whining in her sleep in the other room, and even though I can't see Ned's eyes, I can feel the ring when his palm slides down my side to cup my hip.

When we curl up to sleep I lay with my back against his chest, and I hold his hand over my belly, low, and wonder.


	2. Chapter 2

She's curled up against me when I wake. We've been married for a year and a half now but still, sometimes, we wake up like this and can't believe that she's mine.

My parents, before, teased me about it. I had been dating her for three months, I was sixteen, and she was all I thought about. They thought it was cute.

Then I announced that she was it. For the rest of my life, she was the one I would love. The one that, eventually, I'd ask to marry me.

My mother went quiet at that, her face suddenly serious. "Ned, you've known her for five months."

"Right."

She shook her head. "You can't... she's fifteen years old. And I don't want you to get hurt."

I scoffed at that, because at sixteen I knew everything. "I won't get hurt. She's great, Mom. She's amazing. She's perfect."

And Mom smiled to herself anyway, and took another sip of her coffee, because they loved her too. They loved when she came over, when we went to prom, and when I went away to Emerson and we stayed together though that first year apart. They didn't question me anymore, except to ask when I'd make good on my promise, when I'd finally give in and ask her to be mine. They waited through three years at Emerson together, my decision to go to the Academy, Nancy's college graduation, and our separate apartments in the city. All Mom's friends had children who were marrying and having children of their own, and still I waited, remembering what Nancy had told me after that first proposal, standing on the bank of the river, her hands in mine.

_Not yet._

We had the rest of our lives together. We'd been through almost everything, her cases and my time at the Academy and Frank Hardy's continued and sporadic presence in her life, but I knew she loved me. I knew she wanted to be with me. And I knew that when the time came, it would be right.

I just thought they would always be there. And then they weren't anymore. In the blink of an eye, two of the three important people in my life were gone, just like that, and Nancy stood there, the only one left.

Sometimes I wish that Mom and Dad had been there for it. I wish that I'd been able to find the courage to ask her when it wasn't courage so much as self-preservation that miserable day, as I stood in the shell of what had been my life for eighteen years, and only she survived, and I knew that I had to know, to hear her say it out loud. But I don't know now how long it would have taken me to do it if not for that day.

I don't know if they would have approved how quickly our relationship deepened that night, but I know they would have understood.

Now she's beside me, wearing the ring I always assured my parents was for her alone. She didn't sleep well, and her hair has fallen over her face, and even though I know I have to get up and take a shower I just gaze down at her. I loved her for so long, have loved her for so long, so much that sometimes the strength of it frightens me. I'd go to the edge of the earth for her, and beyond.

I went out into the night to find her, when I thought that she would be lost to me forever, and I killed for her, for her and all those other girls Nash had hurt. I couldn't, I still can't, imagine how empty my life would have become if I had been one second later pulling the trigger, if Nash had managed to take her with him to that early unholy grave. If I'd never been able to make her my wife.

I kiss her cheek and she stirs in her sleep but doesn't wake, so I stifle the impulse to wake her, remembering how often I felt her move beside me last night. I pull the covers up over her and her face relaxes the slightest bit.

The house is still cool but the clock is flashing on the bedside table so I know the power's back on. Mollie is dancing when I open the bedroom door, and she runs immediately to the hook by the door, where we keep her leash.

"You ready for a run, girl?"

Our street is almost silent, and it's still so cold out, even through all the layers I struggled into. Mollie loves it, though, running easily beside me as we round the corner, past all the familiar places, the swingsets and perfectly manicured lawns.

The swingsets are what get me, though. The family my mother never had a chance to see us become. Our new house will be bigger, though, closer to the school, more rooms, a bigger backyard. Later, when the city is too much, there will be my parents' house and fall in Mapleton, and Carson in the next town, and maybe one day a first car in the driveway, full of suitcases and school supplies, ready for the long trek to Emerson.

Not that I'm biased or anything.

The house is quiet when I push open the front door, and Mollie runs immediately to her water bowl, then to the backyard, her claws sounding on the hardwood. The kitchen is empty, and Nancy has just begun to stir when I walk back into our bedroom, already nearly undressed.

"Ned..."

"I'm going to take a shower. Unless you want me to wait for you..."

She stretches, smiling, her eyes still closed. "No, it's okay, but I'll take a raincheck."

I'm already late, and a shower with Nancy means the time is doubled, usually tripled, but I miss her anyway. Five minutes later I can smell toast while I hastily dress, but the kitchen is deserted.

"Nan?"

She comes out of the other bathroom in her bathrobe. "You're already late, aren't you," she says softly, and the expression on her face is strange, but she reaches up to give me a kiss anyway.

I nod, returning it. "Nearly. But I can go by the store after I get off, maybe get us something nice for dinner, since the lights are back on..."

"That would be great," she smiles, and I juggle the car keys and a slice of toast and give her one last kiss before she's watching me go. For a minute, at the look in her eyes, I almost turn back, almost, but another glance at my watch, and the ice still on the road, make another minute too long.

This morning it's Bill's turn to get the coffee, which is great, because he still lives in an apartment close to the station, and he's not the one ten minutes late. I find a stack of files on my desk already, along with a steaming cup from the shop down the street, and Bill's checking me over for marks. I pick up a pencil and throw it at him.

"What? I can usually tell if you're gonna be in a good mood or not, based solely on whether you have any hickeys on your neck." Bill sits back, looking pleased with himself.

"Oh really." He likes this game, and it's still early, and I haven't yet stopped thinking about how she looked this morning.

"Yeah, but... you're in a good mood anyway. That's a mighty high collar there, Nickerson."

The heat is almost stifling, and I take off my suit jacket, rolling my cuffs up over my forearms. "I have to keep _some_ secrets from you, Stott."

"Guess that means you haven't decided to trade her in yet." He gives a dramatic sigh of mock disappointment.

"Never will. You had your chance."

Bill shakes his head, because he knows it's a lie. No one else ever really had a chance.

I've just taken my first sip of coffee and opened the first folder when my cell phone rings on my hip. Nancy's ringtone.

Immediately my heart is in my throat.

"Nan?"

"Hey," she replies, and I don't hear the familiar sound of traffic behind her voice. "You at work?"

"Just got here. The roads aren't too bad..." Then I remember the look on her face. "Are you okay?"

She makes a sound, like a strangled laugh. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. But I was wondering if you... might want to have lunch with me."

"Do I want to have lunch with a beautiful woman? Of course. Name a place and a time and I'll be there."

"The Italian place on Lake Shore Drive."

I chuckle. "Hmm. If I'm paying..."

"Oh, you're paying, all right. And you'd better be wearing something sexy, too, Nickerson."

"That's my line."

"Yeah, well, when am I not wearing something sexy?"

"Good point."

"I'll see you at noon. And don't be late."

I hang up and chuckle again, and Bill's watching me. "You went white when you answered the phone."

"Yeah, well, she's fine, and I think I'm going to have a much better lunch break than you are."

Bill picks up the pencil and throws it back. "Just rub it in, why don't you."

She's already waiting when I walk in, and she is beautiful. The other couples are dressed in matched suits, tourists with wind-reddened faces above bright scarves, but Nancy is in something dark and clinging, her hair up, pearls in her ears and around her throat. She stands when we catch sight of each other, and that look is even more pronounced. A glass of water at her right hand, and she didn't drink last night, and she wouldn't have worn this to work.

I can feel myself going into investigator mode and I turn it off with a shake of my head, and a wide smile at her. "You do look great. I feel positively underdressed. Or maybe overdressed," I say, plucking at the red silk tie I'd grabbed a few hours before, wishing that she had taken me up on the shower. Five hours before we can be alone together again.

She grins, and suddenly her eyes are gleaming. "I talked to George after you left this morning, and Bess came in safe."

"That's great. Man... so she knows about...?" I ask, gesturing between the two of us.

Nancy buries her face in her hands for a second, her palms light against her cheeks, then glances up again. She's glowing.

"Not quite, because I wanted to tell you first."

I lace my fingers between hers and I can feel her pulse faint beneath her skin, and the color's high in her cheeks. "Nan..."

She glances down at her empty plate for a second before our eyes meet again.

"I took the test this morning... I'm pregnant."

I can feel my heart beating, in that moment, and she smiles so wide, and I can't believe it. But she's so radiant, and that look on her face, she was waiting, while I was in the shower, waiting until she knew for sure, and...

I make a noise, and it's so loud that the couple at the next table turns toward us in surprise, but I can't stop myself. I stand up and she stands up to meet me and I pull her to me in a hug so hard, my face against her hair, her breath against my neck in a startled laugh.

"You're sure?"

She nods. "Pretty sure. Ninety-nine percent sure."

"Nancy," I say again, pulling back, and even though the restaurant is full and I know everyone is probably watching us, I kiss her anyway, long and hard, and she returns it with the same intensity, her hand cupping my cheek when we finally pull apart.

"Merry Christmas," she whispers, her eyes shining up into mine. "Merry Christmas."


End file.
